DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) (4 page)

“I’m not. I—”

My voice chokes off on a strangled gasp when his fingers suddenly delve beneath the waistband of my skirt and panties to the wet heat that’s simmering and bubbling between my legs.

Those wicked fingers of his graze over my freshly shaven mound, skim my clit and skate down the seam of my sex, stopping at my opening.

The possessive hold he has on me and the way his larger body just seems to envelop me, tower over me protectively, turns me on in the worst way and I push against his hand, mewling my delight.

“All this wet heat is for me, baby. You feel how soaked and hot you are right now? That’s just the beginning of what I can make you feel, Dot. Tell me what you feel. I want to hear the words.”

Words? How can I form words and speak when he’s sliding his middle finger up and down my lips, spreading the moisture before flicking at my bud, only to tease back down to where I’m empty and clenching for him.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, nipping at my ear to gain my attention.

It’s so freaking hot the way he’s playing with me, pushing me closer to the brink with every flick of his finger that I have to swallow and force myself to breathe.

“Wet. I feel so wet and hot inside. It’s burning me up for you.”

“That’s good, baby. That’s exactly how I want you to feel. What else?”

I’m wanton, pushing against his hand as he keeps up the steady tease, my body begging for penetration even as the words spill forth.

“I need you inside me so badly it hurts deep inside where your finger keeps dipping into me.”

“What do you want, Dot?”

              “You. Just you making me feel good.”

It’s not the dirty talk he wants, I know that, but he seems satisfied with my answer and rewards me by pushing his finger deep and setting a rhythm that has me up on my toes and curling closer to his hand.

The other is still locked around me, holding me against him. I feel every stoke of his finger inside me and the way his thumb slips up to my clit to tease it and flick me so slowly I can’t hold in my pleas.

“Oh, please. Faster.”

His growl of approval is as much a turn-on as his hands, and I thoroughly enjoy the animalistic sound even as he speeds up and starts pushing me closer to the edge.

When I come minutes later I have to grab at his arm to keep myself up as my sex spasms and clenches around his finger while I convulse and scream my pleasure.

I now know why Indie said that good sex is worth all the effort.

When I’m finally able to get my legs back under me and I’m just plain wrung out, Paul removes his hand and turns me into his chest for a hug and little kisses all over my face.

I want to kiss him so badly it hurts when he looks at me through lazy eyes and pushes me away a step.

“Goddamn you’re sexy when you come. And you smell fucking delicious,” he grunts, bringing his hand up to his nose before inhaling and licking at his finger. “You and me, Dot, we’re going to set those sheets on fire with the blaze burning between us.”

It’s hot and embarrassing at the same time watching him savor my taste and groan that I smell like effing lavender, but it also makes me feel strangely at ease with what’s going to happen between us.

For some reason I just know that giving myself to Paul will be the best decision I’ve ever made. He’ll take care of me and adore every inch of me, flaws and all, and I need that.

I need the confidence that will come from him worshipping me, even my small boobs and the stretch marks on my hips from the year I hit               my growth spurt and my body couldn’t keep up.

“Paul.”

I want to return the favor now as he finally manages to calm and looks down at me with a sweet smile. I want to go to my knees and tongue him to orgasm and taste him just as he’s tasted me.

“Hush, baby. There’s time yet for us to get there. For now I’m feeding and watering you, and showing you my pride and joy. Welcome to Hawk Ranch. Now come on, you sex fiend, let’s get going.”

As I take the hand he’s holding out to me, his grin wicked, I find myself smiling back and thanking God I took this gamble. It’s like rolling the dice and getting double sixes. I just hope I’ve bet on the right horse.

Oh Toto, We’re Back in Kansas.

Dot

The ranch is so much more than I imagined it would be. At this time of year it’s not even close to cold, but Paul told me that the winters here can be brutal and that he’s spent his fair share of calving seasons so cold, he almost lost his nuts once winter.

Jules, the foreman, a man of about forty-five with greying brown hair and an easy smile, has been with us through most of the tour, bringing Paul up to date on everything that’s been happening.

That surprised me, and what almost had me apologizing for my misconceptions is that Paul seems to be hands on and even gives a few suggestions that lead me to believe that this isn’t just a hobby for him but a real passion that he loves.

Not many people can look at this life and see potential, and I would have thought a tycoon from the city would look at the place and sneer at how rustic it all is.

Not Paul, though. I may not know him all that well, but I’ve been watching his every move since he picked me up at the apartment, and I have to say that I have never seen him this happy or relaxed. It’s as if he’s come home and the peace and joy has settled into his very bones.

“See there?”

I look over to where he’s pointing and catch a glimpse of a thin ribbon of water meandering near some trees.

“Wow. The creek?”

“Yup. That was the first selling point when I went looking for land. The place has its own water and also has some very nice underground sources that we tap into when rain is scarce. I also just fell in love with it when I came down here. Sitting under the trees and hearing the water is magical.”

He sounds so happy that all I can do is smile as he spurs the horses on and we amble down to the trees, dismounting in the shade. He’s right, it is magical, I think, as my tired legs and ass dump me beneath the tree closest to the water. I enjoy the tinkle of it echoing around us.

Paul drops down beside me too and just sits with his eyes closed, lost in the moment.

“The first year I owned the land I would come here every sunset after chores and just take it all in. It was as if my life in the city didn’t exist and I loved it.”

“How did this happen? I mean, no offense, but you seem like the tycoon city slicker to me, yet seeing you here I can’t believe that you could ever bear to leave this place and go back to the hustle and bustle of the city. Hell, you may have to pry me loose with a crowbar in three weeks.”

He chuckles and angles his head to look at me from beneath the rim of his hat.

“It started when Mama and Grammy would send me to my uncle Jim’s every summer. They said I needed the break and that some hard work and freedom would settle me. My grandfather was an asshole most of the time, and I’d be so busy with school and learning the business that coming to Jim’s was truly like a vacation, even when I had to rise at the ass crack of dawn and shovel stalls and acres of shit.”

Hmm, another misconception, I think, as he grins and closes his eyes again.

“What? You thought I was the classic rich asshole who only knows about money? Business and fucking? Sorry to disappoint, baby, but this man’s a rancher at heart. I fell in love with it all. The land, the animals, the constant back-breaking labor. It was like a whole new world where all I had to do to be a worthy man was be a man and work for what I wanted. I hate the city and all the business shit. I despise the suits and the politics of family versus money. Here, and at Jim’s place too, I feel like I’m free. I work hard, yeah, but at the end of the day all I have to worry about is what chore needs doing tomorrow.”

“Not spreadsheets and social obligations and everyone else looking to you to make the next big deal.”

I love the catering business, but I also, like Paul, just want to look at an honest day’s work and feel like I accomplished something that will make a difference.

City life is tiring and go, go, go. Work, make money, never stop, because if you do there’s someone else willing to do the job.

“Exactly.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Anytime, baby.”

Deep breath in.

“I don’t like the city, either. When I was younger I planned to move to the country and just do the things I wanted to do. Cook, knit, sew. I thought I would find someone who wanted the same things and then I could raise a family and be happy.”

“But?”

“But I never found anyone I could envision this life with. It’s all about convenience to everyone and I hate that. What’s so wrong with wanting to have a life where the career boils down to being a good mother and wife? Everyone thinks in this day and age you have to be successful and work to be independent, but I don’t see that. To me, at the end of the day if you know you’ve done a good job, even just being a housewife, that’s all that matters.”

“So you like this place? Like the thought of being a momma here and having a passel of kids while you keep house?”

I can see he’s surprised and I don’t blame him.

“Yes. I stay with my friends and family because I don’t want to hurt them by just leaving them high and dry, but the rest?” I shrug and look down at the cool water with a groan as the heat hits me.

“What about the business?”

“That’s Callie and the girls at work. They always wanted to start it and I just sort of went along with it because that was what they expected. Me? A don’t need a career to be happy. I do it because they needed me to take charge, but honestly, I have no passion for cooking for snobs who think caviar is a must and sushi is just to die for. Yuck.”

“You know that if you do what your parents want you to that you’ll never leave the city right? Alex wouldn’t make it a second here with the lack of clubs and parties.”

The image of that twerp in jeans while he shovels manure and tends to cattle makes me giggle and Paul laughs too, getting my humor.

“I am so not marrying Mr. Armani.”

“No?”

“Definitely not. Look at me, Paul.” I giggle, waving a hand down to my plain boho look and cheap jewelry.

“I am, baby,” he rasps, making me turn my eyes to his and gasp.

His face is hard with lust and I see him swallow when my nipples peak against the fabric of my sheer bra and light camisole.

“No, perv, I mean look. I’m never going to be designer worthy because I hate that stuff. Most days I buy my clothes secondhand because I just like the thought of using something old to make something new. I am not a society girl and I hate those parties. I’m too freaking cheap to make a man like Alex happy.”

Paul growls at that and I find myself in his lap, his mouth on mine and my hands tangled in his hair.

This is our first real kiss and it’s a doozy. There’s no desperation, no quick pecks, it’s just Paul lazily making love to my mouth as I stroke and suck on his lips and tongue in a slow, sweet joining of mouths.

“You’re perfect just the way you are. Don’t ever change,” he growls, biting into my bottom lip only to release it slowly and lick at my teeth.

“I won’t, I’m just not…I know that we aren’t at all suited and that’s just fine by me since I’m not intending to ever want him. I want peace and a slower pace and a family like the one I adopted when Callie and the girls decided to take me in. I don’t want any of the things I have so far, and that’s fine because it just means I can let go of them easier. My parents? They’ll never get this,” I say, waving at the tranquil beauty around us.

“Their loss.”

“Yes. They also won’t ever get why I can’t choose them.” I sigh.

“Have they ever chosen you first, though?”

I think about his question, about all the times my parents disappointed me.

              "When I turned seven they forgot it was my birthday. I spent all day waiting for them to surprise me until I realized…”

              “Jesus, that sucks.”

“Don’t feel too sorry for me, cowboy. I had a great day with Callie and the girls and I even got a giggle in when Indie and Percy used the poison ivy from the girl scouts hall, you know, the samples they use to teach with, and rubbed it all over their sheets. They scratched and yelled about it for days. At one point my mother looked like she was going to scratch her skin off.”

Good times.

              Paul laughs at that and I relax again, giggling along with him.

“I need you to tell me that you’ll refuse Alex because no matter what, I can’t be with you if you’re planning to follow orders. It’s wrong and I can’t stand the thought of having you only to see you walk down the aisle to him. I want you, Dot, a lot, but I have to know…”

“I’m not marrying him, Paul. End of story.”

That smile comes back then and this time when he kisses me, I know that we’re on. Tonight I will make love to Paul summers and nothing else will matter.